ANDIAMO

Man, this kid can say some funny things. 

Here’s a few from the past week:

• Me: “Who were your best friends at Almaz’ house in Ethiopia? Do you remember?”

R: “Eyerus…..ummmmm…Rutta, Selam….and…me. I like myself very much.”

• R: “When Santa comes soon, can she stay with me and sleep in my bed?  She is so beautiful.”

• Saturday night we trick or treated with some good friends. Their two youngest daughters, 5 and 3, were dressed up as clusters of grapes. Little purple balloons pinned all over.

Me: “R, you were such a good helper with your two little friends. You were very sweet to hold their hands and help them walk in the dark.”

R: “I know Mom. I helped them ’cause grapes…they don’t know how to walk.”

I don’t know why this surprised me. Maybe it’s because we took a group of street kids to have ice cream on our first trip to Addis Ababa last summer. Maybe it’s because I assumed the kiddos might have had some special holiday treat at Almaz’s house (that’s what RS calls Hannah’s Hope)…

Last night RS was eating a bowl of chocolate ice cream. She was actually using it as a chaser for her nasty cough medicine. One sip of syrup , followed by a bite of creamy yumminess, helps the medicine go down.  And for some reason it prompted me to ask, “RS, did you ever have ice cream in Ethiopia?”
“No.”

“Ever? Not even at Almaz’s house?”

“No.”

“So the first time you had ice cream was here in America…the first weekend we were home and took you for icecream…the cone with sprinkles on it?”

“Uh-huh. My first time.”

Wow.  This really isn’t a shocker, but I’m surprised I missed that one. What a monumental moment! Her first ice cream cone.  Afterall, American kids and ice cream go hand in hand.  But RS’s first taste wasn’t until she was 5 years old, on a unseasonally warm day, February 7, 2009. Marble Slab Creamery. 2 scoops of sweet cream in a waffle chocolate coated cone with rainbow sprinkles.  I love the photos from that day. And I’ll look at one shot of her– savoring the goodness, bright eyes, big smile, blue shirt and pigtails, spoon in one hand and oversized cone in the other– with a new deliciously scrumptious understanding.

I’m looking for suggestions on how to combat RS’s opinions that she should have the same privileges as mommy and daddy.  As she has settled into our home, she’s getting more independent and overly more comfortable. All this is good, as it shows she’s adjusting.  So naturally now, 3 months home, she’s starting to question her place in the household mix. RS feels she should be on an equal playing field with us grownups.  Consequently, she’s hearing a lot of  “Sorry, that’s just the way it is. You’re little, I’m big. You’re the kid, I’m the parent. Tough luck.”  But she keeps pushing and pushing and whining and whining.

Any ideas outside the blunt answers of “Nope, get it over it. You’re the child. “?

Come on experienced parents of other 5 -6 year olds!!!   Tell me how normal this is for this age, and any tricks of the trade!

Last week she threw a bratty fit over the fact that mom got 2 things at TJMaxx, and she only got one. Seemed so horribly unfair to her.  Last night in the bath, she clearly voiced her angry opinions about having to go to bed, while mom and dad get to go downstairs and watch more TV. How unfair!  Therefore, she did everything in her power to delay bedtime, and refused to fall asleep. So obnoxious.

RS is talking more and more about her life in Ethiopia. You can tell she enjoys telling the stories. It’s so healthy for her, although the storytelling seems no different in tone and emotion than if she was casually recounting playing baseball outside with Daddy.

She’s told a few stories about she and her birth mother… one pretty hilarious, especially with all her excitement and hand gestures. She told us in Abay a couple weeks ago about breaking a buna pot while helping her mother serve coffee.  She apparently had a small little buna pot like her mother’s larger one. She dropped it, and it shattered all over the floor. Coffee went everywhere.

She’s also talked about how her birth mother would strap her to her back when she was a baby, using a scarf, and toting her like a human backpack.  RS demonstrated the wrapping technique with a baby doll and slung the generic American Girl doll onto her back.

The most recent story she’s told is pretty darn funny. It went on for like 5 minutes. I was pulling some injera out of a plastic bag for her.  And this prompted me to ask what they kept their injera in in Ethiopia. She told me a big round basket with a lid…just like the ones we see in the restaurants.  Then she went on to tell me that once they kept the injera in the refrigerator.  When her mother opened the door, she saw that the bread had been knawed on by a mouse. And then the mouse appeared and ran about the inside of the fridge. RS was hysterical recounting the efforts made in trying to catch the critter, screaming and swatting at it. It apparently got out to the rest of the house, and they chased it around for sometime before the drama ended.

Tomorrow we go to court to readopt RS in the U.S.  She will get a U.S . birth certificate and will be an official Ethiopia-American. We’ll post a couple of photos on FB.

I learned a lesson from RS the other day. Mike and I had discussed the idea of encouraging RS to give away a toy everytime she gets a new one.  The other night, she had a classmate over to play.  As her classmate’s mother was gathering things up to go home, I asked RS if she wanted to give her friend one of her barbies to take home.  RS calls it “share”. She thinks “share” means “give,” and for some reason she hasn’t picked up the differences between the two words yet.  English is obviously still a work in progress.  All this can be confusing for her when it’s “Share Day” at school.  I wonder if she’ll actually come home with her “show and tell” item, or perhaps she’s given it away to some random kid.

Anyway, so her classmate was about to leave, and I quietly asked RS if she wanted to give her a Barbie. I suggested one of the older ones she doesn’t play with much. But RS shook her head and carefully selected 2 dolls, her newest Barbie in a new wedding gown, and the other sporting a new hot purple number we had just bought off the rack at Target.  I flinched, almost stopping her. But then it would have caused attention, and I would have looked like cheap idiot. Inside, I was like “No no no! NOT those two! Not the new one, and the 2 new dresses! Come on! We just bought those! Let’s give her the old one in the ratty blue dress, the one you don’t play with much!”

Wow. Then I was ashamed of my internal stinginess. It’s a couple of freakin’  Barbies and some clothes. Big deal.  Man, I wish I had the natural instinct to give so big, and to give so freely. I wish I was more like RS.

I’ve taken notice over the past few weeks of RS’s play. And I’ve observed, big shocker, that she doesn’t do much in the way of  imaginative play.  Now, she will play with toy kitchen items and toy food, or she’ll play with her Barbie house. But here’s how she plays…with a toy kitchen she is busy cooking you a meal and will serve you. With her Barbie’s house, she’s quick to arrange all the furniture just  right, and then put the Barbies to bed, after she washes all their clothes in the bathtub.

Now, I did similar things when I was little, but I’d also get lost in pretending I was a princess living in a castle in the clouds, and go on for hours acting out my royal drama.  Or I’d pretend I was a Charlie’s Angel, cruising the neighborhood on my bike.  I WAS  Jacqueline Smith on my pink huffy that was actually my pink sports car.

I don’t think RS knows how to play that way yet. She is also very task oriented to the point of perfection in all her games, drawings, and ’school work’. Even her barbie house, fake baby food, and kitchen toys all have their proper way of being used, all to mimic reality. Not fantasy. I’ve watched her erase “S’s” as she writes her abc’s, in order to make it perfect. And she is very careful to color cartoons of Dora or Mickey as they appear on the cover of the book.

RS also loves to help around the house. If you are sweeping the floor, she wants a broom too.  And if you don’t give her one, she is majorly put off. She loves to set the table, clear the table, refill drinks, clean the bathroom, fold the laundry, assemble shelf units, brush the dogs, plant flowers. The list goes on.

I guess my point is the effects of being raised in a different country and culture, and seeing those differences acted out right before my eyes. Growing up, there’s no doubt RS was expected to help around the house, help feed babies and change them, help with meals.  And as far as fantasy and imaginative play, who has time or know-how for that in Ethiopia, when it’s a matter of survival day to day?  But I have to tell you it’s fun watching her over these weeks, her personality really starting to come out.  And watching her play with other kids. It’s a joy. I’m sure soon enough, unfortunately, she’ll trade in her broom for a toy microphone, pretending she is the new Hannah Montana. Crap.

RS had a lot of Ethiopia this weekend. Many interesting things happened. On Saturday we went to her classmate’s house, a little girl born here in the states, to Ethiopian parents. Her mother showed me how to cook shiro. I worked on it today, and hope I got it right. I find out soon when she gets home from school and smiles or scrunches her nose at it.

The mother also braided RS’s hair.  RS simply put up with it, but wasn’t happy about it. Unfortunately she took out the braids yesterday morning, so that was a short-lived endeavor. The mother was so kind and just gushed over RS. I think she loved seeing a little girl who could still speak Amharic, and took joy in having her in her home.  RS was so excited to eat the injera and shiro, chanting, “Shiro I love you so much! Injera I love you so much!” And she was flicking her tongue side to side in a slurpy, yummy, sop it up sound.

Yesterday we took her to Abay restaurant, and she was an instant hit as soon as we walked through the door. 2 or 3 Ethiopian women rushed over to us and showered her with kisses and Amharic accolades. It was so cool to see RS explore the restaurant, and she was pumped to show Grandma Pat how to eat injera.  I loved watching her speak with the women too. We found out in those conversations the neighborhood in Addis where RS was raised. She also told me a story through broken English and hand gestures of how she once broke her buna (coffee) pot. This was one of the first stories she has told me of her old life in Ethiopia, and I know many many more are to come.  She was helping her Ethiopia mommy serve coffee.  She gestured around to all the little cups, showing me how she had poured buna, then dropped the clay pot, and it shattered everywhere. RS also babbled on and on about Tigray, her Ethiopian heritage, as she watched the video of ET dancers on the TV in the corner of the restaurant.

We scored 5 or 6 rounds of injera to take home with us as well. I’m so happy that RS was around familiar things this weekend. She was ready for it, and I think the timing was perfect. Any sooner may have freaked her out or confused her. One of the ET women happened to be the Amharic translator for Vanderbilt’s international adoption clinic, and we both knew several of the same families in the area who have adopted kids.  She was incredibly nice, and gave us 5 Amharic kids’ CDs. She also commented on how well she thought RS was doing, how good her English and her attitude was, having only been home 2 months.

Good grief, could I be more a wreck right now? RS is in the back getting crowns done. I’ve cried like 5 times. Sitting in the waiting room and I’m crying like a baby.  I am just so scared for her, so scared there isn’t any scared left for her to feel herself.

When we arrived, she ended up spitting out 50% or more of the sedation medicine.  Fortunately enough of it took for her to pass out on the floor of the waiting room about 30 minutes later. Groggily and slightly unwillingly, she went back with the nurse.  But up to this point, I have had about 3 internal nervous breakdowns. I was so afraid the sedative wouldn’t take and they’d have to pull her back there kicking and screaming. After she spit the sedation meds out, they couldn’t give her any more because they can’t tell how much she actually digested. And it’s too dangerous to guess a remaining dose.

Anyway…actually now, we’re back home. 8 crowns and a filling later.  As I was finishing the paragraph above, they brought her back out to me.  The kid was a great patient for them. She fell asleep through some of the work.  But as soon as she saw me in the waiting room, she started wailing. 

Honestly, some of crying felt fake, and the other part? Well, now looking back I don’t think she remembers any of the waiting room fiasco because of all the drugs in her system.  Mike and I carried her out sobbing, but I desperately had to use the restroom, and RS wouldn’t have any of it. She went full-on tantrum in hallway, just plain beside herself.  Long story short, she was totally wigged out about the numbness of her mouth. She kept pulling at her cheeks and lips and screaming. And there was nothing I could say to make her understand it was only temporary. The more I talked, the more she screamed.  But then about an hour later, when it wore off, she looked at me all excited, and exclaimed, “Mama! Better!!!”  To which I replied, “I know! I’ve been trying to tell you that for 2 hours, see?!  All good now.”  So for future reference fellow adoptive parents, don’t forget to do your best to prep them for the after effects of dental work–the tinglely lips and cheeks WILL go away, promise! 

She doesn’t seem to mind her silver crowns. In fact, one of her classmates was jealous when RS showed her. RS said, “Look, sparkles! Sparkle teeth!” And her buddy looked sadly up at me and said, “I don’t have any…” I told her it was ok, and now either way, both of them have healthy chompers.

Please keep us in your thoughts and prayers. RS gets 8 silver crowns on her baby molars tomorrow. I have much anxiety over this. But I know she needs it done. I have prepped her the best way I know how. I’ve done my best to explain she will have silver sparkles on her teeth. And I have shown her a sample crown the dentist gave me. Yesterday an Ethiopian lady was nice enough to help further explain to her in Amharic, that this is to help her teeth and be healthy. I’m going to work on it more tonight.

But please remember us tomorrow. Our appt is at 8am.

Here’s a random list of things that come to mind as of lately. Things RS has done or said:

-I love her crazy animated faces. She is so expressive. The best is when she is 2 inches from your face and her eyes get wide, eyebrows shoot up, and she opens her mouth in a happy crazy scream.  Or the wide eyes she gets in a grocery store, or any store. Michaels causes the most animated faces. Michaels to RS, is like me to a cheese shop.

-I love that she insists on riding in the cart at the store. And not only that, she insists on wearing the seat belt. I wonder how much longer this will last. It’s a great perk she offers right now. But sooner or later she’ll catch on that the seat belt restricts her movement in the cart, and then the cart itself restricts her ability to run like a wild animal through the aisles.

-Ok this one is sad. I love when she misses mommy. That sounds mean, and by no means do I wish her fear or pain. What I mean is I am thankful she is attaching so well.  This morning the trash came, and I didn’t have the can down at the driveway yet. I heard the grumbling truck coming. One of my biggest pet peeves is to miss the garbage truck. And our can was overflowing, so I had no choice but to catch them.  So I booked it out of the house in a focused fury.  I met the truck in time, but as I came back up to the house, RS was standing on the backporch sobbing little tears and calling for mommy. It broke my heart and I felt so terrible. But is it horrible to say I loved scooping her up, profusely apologizing, and relishing in comforting her? And finding promise in the attachment we are cultivating for one another?

-I broke all the rules last night and allowed a ’slumber party’. RS loved it. She and I watched a movie and fell asleep together. I was clear that this was a special night, that she would go back to her own bed tomorrow. But man, I loved snuggling and her wanting to always have one of my arms around her throughout the night.

-I love random I love yous.  The other kind are sweet, but not the same…you know the ones that are mere replies to you saying it first…or when she is bribed or pacified with a new toy, book or candy or popcorn…”mommy! I love you! I love you so much!”  Uh huh, sure. Would you feel that way if I hadn’t just given you a new Leap Frog Tag Reader book? I’m talking about really really loving the unsolicited I love yous. Like the one last night. Halfway through a Dora movie she’s seen 17 times this week, RS rolls over and says, “Mommy I love you so much”, and rolled back over in time for the Map song.  Ok, wait. Maybe that was all about me letting her watch Dora again…whatever…don’t spoil my moment.

-This one’s the best. At the grocery yesterday, she pointed and smiled at a little girl in another shopping cart. The girl was about her age, and she and her mother were of Asian decent. The other girl smiled and waved. And RS looked up at me, grinning, and shouted, “Mama, CHINA!!!”    Nice. Mmmm-hmmmm. And being the immature person I am, I immediately laughed. It caught me off guard, and man, it was just plain funny for so many reasons.

-I love picking up RS from preschool. She is typically very sweet and snuggly. And 99% of the time she runs to me all happy-happy. She’s so giddy and elated. And she always tells me she was a good girl. ” Mommy, RS goooood girl today. Goooood girl.”  I love the way she tells her teachers and friends, “See you later!” and waves as I tote her out.  This sweetness lasts until she’s in the car and realizes I didn’t pack strawberries and sugar in her snackpack for the ride home.

-RS loves cleaning up and cooking. It’s definitely a cultural thing for her. And I’m happy to respect it. You know she was expected to do these things in Ethiopia at HH or in her birthfamily home. She will help set and clear a table, sweep the floors, and just about clean anything else you put in front of her.  And she does it with excitement and an aim to please. She is very proud of herself when she finishes a project. And she can be very bossy if you try and help her wash a dish or fold a shirt. Even more so, she’s offended if you don’t let her help at all.  I have flowers left to plant outside, and I wouldn’t dream of doing it until we have time to do it together. Otherwise she feels she was left out on the best game ever.
I hope this trait lasts. It’s a good one.  And no, you can’t borrow her.  We need to powerwash the house and build a bonus room this weekend…

-RS misses Daddy. It’s so sweet. When she sees any SUV, she points and asks if that’s Daddy’s car. She asks when he’ll be home, if he’ll be joining us on errands, etc.  She cheers when his truck pulls into the drive.  And in a perfect 5 year old girlie way, when he finally walks through the door, RS hides or snubs her nose at him. She’s just playing hard to get.

-She loves my brother David. Which is saying a lot, right? Come on, those of you that know him, and Dave himself would admit it too. My brother uses arm canes to walk, and RS has never once acted strange about that or questioned it. She actually seems acutely aware that it’s her job to help him. She’ll cover him up with a blanket if she catches him dozing in front of the TV. She opens and closes doors for him.  Last weekend, she was overly encouraging. She held open the door as Dave made his way from the patio to the living room. Then to help him along, she pushed on his butt with 2 hands, saying  “C’mon Deevid…Inside!”

-RS is very considerate of other kids and especially those younger than her. And she calls anyone seemingly younger, a baby.  She plays and shares well. She waits her turn. Sometimes she almost mothers other kids. And she loves to hug. Plus if she really digs you, you’re going to get a wet kiss on the cheek. Maybe 2.

-RS’s English is coming along very well. She speaks in decent caveman like sentences. But she’s really picking up on specific phrases. A few nights ago, I wrapped her head in a silk scarf while she was sleeping (to protect her hair).  Mike got her up in the morning. She reached up and pulled the scarf off. Then with a confused, aggitated, scrunched up face, RS declared, “WHAT is THIS?!!”  and threw the pink scarf across the room.

Where is it? It’s in my kid’s belly, that’s where. She ate beef, not one, but three times in 4 days.  This is major meat milestone. We’ve now evolved from bananas to filet. 

On Saturday we went with the family to a Japanese steakhouse. If you’ve adopted an older kid from Ethiopia, I highly recommend this. RS is obsessed with seeing her food fresh, then cooked. So this was perfect. She loved loved loved it. And she got super excited when the chef threw my filet on the grill. And then the kid ate all my filet. All of it. I had like, a bite. 

Monday I picked her up from preschool, and was informed she ate a sloppy joe.  Seriously? That’s so fantastic.  I mean I never thought I could be so happy about a sloppy joe, a slop-sloppy joe.  I’m just trying to get some protein and iron into this kid’s body.  She ceased her egg craze like 4 weeks ago, and isn’t nearly as infatuated with cashews now. Peanut butter is of no real interest. So yes, bring the kid another please, lunch lady.  I can’t afford to take her out for filets every night.

And then last evening, we grilled burgers. She staked her claim on the two with no cheese. And she ate one of them. Well, half of one. No bun, no cheese, nothing else. But she ate meat. Beautiful pre-pattied, ready to throw on the grill, red meat. We can now add these various beef forms to her carnivorous repertoire, alongside pork loin and baby back ribs.

Two months ago my life was very different.  It was all about me, because bottom line, that’s all there was 24/7.  Oh and Mike too.  But was mostly about me. It was all about how I was feeling that day, where I was going that night, what happened at my job that day, what things I was worried about that have to do with me….me me me.  And I was pretty sick of me. Completely over me.  Totally bored with me. It was like I had an itch that couldn’t get scratched. And it was the desire to be a mom. To focus on and obsess over another human being other than myself.

And now we have our daughter. And I like the changes. I’ve forgot about me for a change.  And people that know me will agree that’s a good thing.  Not that I still don’t need time alone or mom-naps or an afternoon away from the Ethiopian goddess that roams our house. What I mean is I like being a mom finally, and I’m glad I’m not acting out maternal instincts on my chihuahua anymore or obsessing about my health to the point of paranoia. 

I like how my driving skills have evolved from driving with my knee while putting on my makeup; to driving with my knee while refilling a pez dispenser. Before I couldn’t leave Target without buying at least 2 cheap graphic tees for myself; now I can’t leave Target without buying the most obnoxious Disney princess pj set and 6 to 7 items from the dollar bins.  I’m glad I’ve gone from scoffing at wedding receptions while folks handjive to Greece’s We Go Together…; to resurrecting the handjive with RS in the backseat of the car while listening to a Kelly Clarkson song. Or the fact that I was even listening to a Kelly Clarkson song.  I like how I’ve gone from appreciating a green shirt to bring out the color in my eyes; to being completely cool with RS’s observation that Dora and RS have beautiful brown eyes, but mommy has green eyes and ‘green eyes yucky.’  

 Before RS, I never watched Noggin, or Nick Jr, or knew what PBS Spout even was.  RS started preschool recently, and a few hours a week I have the TV back to myself again. Like yesterday…I could have watched anything. Comcast Digi Cable was at my complete disposal. But I found myself watching some Amanda Bynes movie on Disney.  Who’s Amanda Bynes? Yeah, that’s what I would have said 2 months ago.

We have been home now nearly 7 weeks. Only a few times has RS mentioned Ethiopia, and when she did, it was Hannah’s Hope friends or Almaz the director. Last week we were flipping through an Ethiopia kids book for the first time. There were pictures of families and street scenes. RS was naming me and Mike and herself as the people in the random pictures, and her new grandparents and friends here in the US. So it felt like, for a second, she had almost forgot her old life.

Then we turned the page to a random street scene, and a blurred image of a woman in the distance caught RS’s attention and she hollered out, “RS’s Mommy!” and cheered and pointed.  Ok, obviously she hasn’t forgot. (And why should she. She lived with her birth mother until last year). So I smiled and acknowledged her, asking if the photo looked like her Ethiopia mommy. RS grinned and turned the page. And then she closed the book and moved on to a new project or TV or whatever. And that was it. 

Yesterday we were cleaning bedrooms, and RS wanted to look at my own baby book. Somehow she had found it in a drawer. So we looked through it, and she was excited to see ‘mama baby pictures’.  The book seemed to trigger the next chain of events. After seeing all the birthday photos of me when I was a child, and the fact it was Mike’s mom’s birthday yesterday and we were getting ready to celebrate, RS started asking for things from Ethiopia. First she wanted to see her backpack we brought to her…which led to the coloring book and Dora pouch we sent in her carepackage while she was at Hannah’s Hope….which prompted her to ask for her “black pursa”, the purse from the carepackage…which finally led to what I was fearing….”Mama, RS photo black pursa?” 

‘RS photo black pursa’ is the photo album her birthmother gave her.  She gave it to RS when we had our birthfamily meeting at Hannah’s Hope. In the album, there are photos from each of RS’s birthdays.  That night back at the hotel, she put the album in that little black purse. And that was the last time she looked at it or made any mention of it. I’ve had anxiety about the album ever since. Now I’m thrilled we have the album for RS’s sake as it is a huge blessing,  but you just never know what to expect the first time the kid looks at it again.  You have to wonder what goes through her head, and how a 5 year old can comprehend she has 2 mothers and what the difference is between us.  And you have to wonder if she thinks her birthmother just lives right around the corner or what.    

So, we went downstairs and retrieved the album. And she looked through it with excitement, chanting, “I love Etopia, I love Etopia! I love you so much!”,  kissing all the pictures. She showed me the pictures of her birthmother, and I told RS how beautiful her Ethiopia mama was.  From our discussions, I think we have coined the term “Ethiopia Mama” in her mind now for future conversations.

Finally she packed up all the items, album included, and put them into a pencil pounch we had brought with us to Ethiopia.  It was like she was recollecting everything from the trip and getting it back into one place.  Then as quickly as the need to look at the album and all the other stuff came, it went. She tossed the pouch aside and began playing with her dolls. 

Sometimes I forget that adults process things differently than a 5 year old, and that I expect the kid to have the same reactions that Mike and I do.  Here was all my fear that the photos would trigger a major grieving meltdown  (which honestly would be perfectly normal and to be expected).  But she just treated the album as any other project or toy. Look, here’s my barbie! Look, here’s my drawing of a yellow bus! Look, here’s photos of me with my birthfamily in Ethiopia! Look, here’ s my new Fancy Nancy book!  And that’s as complicated as it got… for now. I am still waiting for her to really grieve these losses. 

When it was time to leave for Mike’s mom’s birthday dinner, she ran upstairs for the album. Her whole deal was she wanted to show grandma her own birthday photos in the album. It is grandma’s birthday today, so here look! Here’s my birthdays, see?  And that was it. She actually forgot to even bring in the album to show grandma at the restaurant, and she left it in the car once we were back home again. This morning I took the photos and copied them. I replaced the originals with the copies, and put the album in her room with all her other photobooks. The originals are in safekeeping. Last thing we need to happen is for RS to leave her life history on the floor of the game room at Pizza Perfect or in the toy kitchen sink at friends’ house.

There’s been some question in our minds about RS’s age. This is a common question every ET adoptive parent seems to have about their older kids.  She’s 5 1/2 according to her birth certificate. But she’s so bright, and has excellent coordination and dexterity…she could be 6ish. The dentist pegged her between 5 1/2 or 6ish. 

Yesterday I looked through her photo album again, the one her birth mother gave us. To be honest, I hadn’t looked closely at it since we’d been home.  I realized that each photo of RS was a birthday picture. 1-5years birthday photos. On the back of two photos were dates.  As I compared notes of the dates and her birthyear on the Ethiopian calendar, I did a calendar conversion online. (It’s currently 2001 in Ethiopia. I don’t know all the specifics, but I believe their days in each month and leap year business is different from our calendar as well)

Anyway, I punched in her ET birth year, along with one of the coinciding days on the photo, and the calendar conversion came out exactly to the date listed on her birth certificate. On our calendar, she’s 5 years, 8 months…over there she is between 6 and 7 . This would explain why she had the photo taken on her “5th birthday”, when according to our calendar, her “5th birthday” was the day her mother took her to Hannah’s Hope.  I believe she came to HH at almost 6 years old on the ET calendar. This is why her birth mother said she thought RS was 6, almost 7. And it’s why Reed will say 6 when asked.  She is…over in Ethiopia. But here, on our calendar, she’ll turn 6 on July 2.

Anyway, my head just exploded. And yours likely did too from reading this. Bottom line…thank you Birth Mother for putting dates on the  photos. RS’s birthdate is likely right on target.

Finally after one entire month at home, RS finally ate meat. Grilled pork loin. I think RS has a hangup not seeing the food prepared or purchased. If she doesn’t see it fresh, or pre-prepared, she may not eat it.  When she saw Mike grilling the other night, she got excited and ate all her tenderloin. Yesterday I took her to the grocery store for the first time, and she was able to show me the fruits and veggies she liked. We came home with corn on the cob, which she enhaled.

We also have been trying strawberries and sugar snap peas, which she eats like popcorn.  The peas are the first green anything she has touched.  We also bought a whole pineapple, which I know she’s familiar with. There are pineapples in some of the photos given to us by her birth mother.  We’ll see if she actually eats it though. Sometimes I wonder if she just picks things out because they are familiar to her, but she doesn’t actually like it. Or it is just a matter of seeing the foods fresh, because in Ethiopia, they’re not typically buying canned pineapple and pears at the neighborhood fruit stand.  So I am sure that’s why she won’t touch a Dole fruit cup, but she’ll chow on fresh oranges and bananas and strawberries. Plus come on, they don’t taste as good anyway.

I’m very proud of my daughter. She has rocked out preschool 2 days in row.  We’re going half days right now, and you can tell she’s seems more fulfilled just being around other kids again. I really hope she starts to make some little friends soon. I know she misses her buddies from Hannah’s Hope.  Yesterday was a smooth day entirely. Today she struggled pretty hard when I left her with the teachers. But all in all, she’s seems like a refreshed kid when I pick her up after lunch. Seriously, if I had to spend 24/7 with me for a month solid, I’d be ready for some people my own age too.

Darn you Dora The Explorer and your Spanish language learning initiatives.  You are crafty, bouncing between Spanish and English,weaving bilingualism into moldable minds of our hijos y hijas.  As the parent of an Ethiopian child who’s already bilingual (Amharic and Tigrinya) and heading toward trilingual with English, can I just say one new  language at a time please!?  

The biggest obstacle we have right now is the language barrier. It’s hard to explain to your non-English speaking child that “Mommy will be back to pick up you up from preschool”, or “We’re going to the doctor for a shot, and it will hurt only for a second, and Mommy will be here to make you feel better”… RS’s biggest tantrums could be eased if we could better communicate. 

Oh sure, we role play, play a cryptic version of charades, draw pictures, look at books, all that stuff to help with communication until the language comes. But no amount of playdoh sculpting or magnadoodling a syringe or stethoscope would have helped with RS’s meltdown over the 5 shots at the doc on Monday.  So on the next doc visit, if I could effectively explain, “No needles today, so please stop thrashing on the floor like a wild banshee,” perhaps she wouldn’t scream bloody murder quite as loudly when scrubs come into the room to take her blood pressure.  

 I will better understand my child’s frustrations and feelings, as she will better understand mine, when we speak the same language. Now, her English has dramatically improved even within the past week. We are almost at a point where she uses little to no Amharic when talking to me. But her vocabulary is extremely limited. So when she is upset or scared, still her #1 way to let us know is tears, clinched fists, sobbing, arms flying, teeth knashing.

Ok really, it’s not that bad anymore…she is biting less.

So, Dora…back off. Don’t make me start denying RS her favorite teaching toon. Afterall, she’s obsessed with your catchy tunes and your friendly interaction with the viewing audience. RS loves your beautiful brown blinking eyes. She loves your deadweight tag-along Boots. She loves your Backpack.  But come on!  She’s still singing your lyrical masterpiece Map song as “Eeeez da Bap, Eeeeeez da Bap, Eeeeez da Bap, Eeeeeez the Bap, EEEEEEEZ DA BAAAAAP!!!”

The last thing we need right now is her venting frustrations and feelings in Spanish. That’s not going to help much with this adoption transition.  I had  2 years of Spanish, and just like the rest of us who had 2 years of Spanish, all I’ve retained is ‘Donde esta la bibliotecca?’  So if RS starts screaming at the dentist, “Muerto de Miedo!”, we’re up a creek.

Handy Manny, you’re on my hit list too. You and your tools…come see us in a year. Hasta la vista.

The doc called yesterday, and all of RS’s tests were good. No scary illnesses. Great bloodcount levels.

 :-)  She’s healthy except for her major dental issues.  Such good news!

We also took her the pool at the Y yesterday.  First time in a pool, what a trip!  She loooooved it.  Check out pics on FB.

So in Amharic, Aye (like “eye”) means no. RS says a combo of Amharic and English when she voices her sassy opinions on life.  A sharp “AYE-NO!!!

AYE NO, Mommy!!!!

It occurred to me last week that perhaps a reason she gets so peeved at me, is my English response to her questions…”Yes Reed, I know…You’re hungry? Yes, I know. I know you want to watch Dora…I know, I know, I’ll put the dvd in for you…I know….”

In her very limited grasp of the English language, I have appeared to contradict myself in 99% of my responses. In her mind, she’s hearing “Yes Reed, NO!…You’re hungry? Yes, NO! No you want to watch Dora? No! No! I’ll get the DVD out for you….NO!

Lesson learned again when communicating with your Ethiopian 5 year old.  Mix it up. Instead say “I understand.” Or  “I’m on it!”  Or “Yes, that’s fine.” 

Anything but “I know”.

• RS picks up new words everyday.  A few of her latest words and sayings she tends to wear out through repetitive chanting:  beauuuuuuuutiful, wonderful, oh my goodness!, I like to mooove it mooove it. 
• I’m going to postpone her dental procedures.  After much internal deliberation, I think we’re just asking for it if we do it right now. I’d like her to understand more English, so I can better explain things when she sees the physical changes in her mouth.  We go in tomorrow for a consultation for her oral surgery. The next day is when she’s supposed to have 8 crowns and her front teeth yanked. I’m going to ask how urgent that all really is.  We think it’s best if we put it off maybe a month. She’s too emotionally fragile right now, and so are we.   Her world is still upside down.  She doesn’t need her mouth to be too just yet.
• Karey, OE, and her husband and son came in on Saturday. It was a trip to see the two old Hannah’s Hope pals playing together. They are the same height, their hair looks the same, their voices the same…well, except for the language.  It’s interesting to watch them, as RS still jabbers completely in Amharic. OE is all English now.  But it’s obvious they remember each other well, and loved being together again. Totally a great day! If you’re my friend on FB, check out the pics.
• Tomorrow night is our first postplacement visit. I’m also sending off the paperwork to the attorney to start the readoption process.
• This weekend one of RS’s best friends at Hannah’s Hope came home with her family.  Another best friend and her brother, a sibling group adoption, are home as well I believe.  I’m so glad these little ladies are with their families now. It was sad to see their faces when we left Hannah’s Hope…both looked longingly at us as we headed toward the door. And I kept thinking, your mamas will be here soon.  And I told them both their moms love them very much. Now to go to their blogs and see their smiling faces in their new homes,  I look forward to being able to communicate to RS that we’ll see them again one day.
• Less meltdowns as a whole. RS still cries 1-2 times a day easy, but we haven’t had as many violent tantrums this week. She did have a tantrum leaving church today. But it was the first one since this past Monday. She tried to bite again, but didn’t really try too hard. We were more stern with our voices, and she responded better.  She’s also extremely extremely clingy, whiny, and babylike. And “mommy, mommy, mommy” all the time.  Seriously, all the time, a freakin broken record. And you know, it’s ok. It really is. It’s a good thing.  It’s attachment, and that’s what we want. But now we’re running into problems when I leave a room, or God forbid, run an errand without her.  Tonight I got to go to Target for an hour, by myself, and it was like a slice of Shangri La.  This was the 2nd time I’ve left RS since we’ve been home. But she apparently fussed for me the whole time.  Mike said it wasn’t bad, but we’ve got to start doing more of this to get her gradually used to the fact that I come back.
• Cabin fever. My goal this week was to keep RS closer to home, keep her world smaller, etc., to avoid the Lucifer-esque tantrums. And it worked. We got through the week with only the major meltdown Monday morning, and that one today at church.   But seriously, I struggled this week more than she did.  I relapsed yesterday evening and this morning…the whole ‘can’t see the forest through the trees’ feeling, loss of appetite, major anxiety and dread,  and feeling intimidated by her.  It came over me for no real reason–other than maybe the fact I haven’t had a second to myself for 4 weeks.   I can’t shower, use the bathroom, turn my back, walk into another room, without a “mommy, mommy, mommy…”  I know I’m preaching to the choir to parents that have like 3 + kids and haven’t used the bathroom in private for nearly 12 years. But at least your 5 year old speaks the same language as you do. Trying to explain that mommy is cooking macaroni for you right now (See? See the pot and the boiling water, and the box of open macaroni?),  you don’t need to repeat ”mommy macaroni” 72 times in under a minute in order for me to understand that you’d like your macaroni…well, that’s when the language barrier with 5 year old gets frustrating.  Anyway, fortunately we spent a fantastic afternoon at Grandma’s, and then a great evening here. And I feel more normal again. I think my decision to postpone dental has taken a load off my soul as well.

We had our first tantrum-free day since last Thursday.  Thank you. Thank you very much.

All day long I have dreaded the inevitable. I had to take RS in for bloodwork today. Her last two visits to the doc and dentist were great, because there was no pain involved. But today would be different. And on top of her weekend of violent aggressive tantrums, I was honestly terrified to take her to Vanderbilt.

When we arrived, I was pretty annoyed to see a plain old waiting room, not much for kids. RS looked at me and said, “Mama?”.  She knew she was at a doctor’s office.  But she thought I was going to the doctor, not her (this comes from a quick trip to a clinic yesterday when I had to get my TB test read. So I think RS thought her mama was sick and going to the doctor again.)  So when I told her we were there for her, she pulled away with her usual no or ”em-bee”. Fearing a tantrum coming on in public, I bold faced lied to her.  “No no, RS and Mommy.”  And she was fine with that.

I was also nervous she would get extremely bored waiting there. We had forgot her purse in the car, so no RS games. But then a little African American boy (I’m convinced he was an angel) came right over to us for no real reason. He started talking to RS and making paper airplanes. The kid kept RS occupied until they called us back…to another waiting room. 

This room was completely boring, not even a magazine or book to look at. Great.  She was crazy hyper too, jumping all over the place.  I think we pissed off the other family in there, and they left. Sorry.  Then here comes the nurse, and I”m thinking, “Man, this is going to be bad.”  Hell on earth devil child.  I even kept my coat on to avoid any serious pain in case she bit again.

The nurse instructed me how to hold RS in my lap, holding her head tight with one hand, and the other over her other arm. Fortunately there was a bulletin board with cartoon characters on it, and we practiced naming them all. Then came the prick. And seriously I think they took like 10 viles of blood or something, because I swear that needle was in her arm for 5 minutes. She whined for the first bit, then steadily became more tearful and weepy and struggled against me.  All I could do was whisper “Iy-zosh” in her ear, and “I’m sorry.”… and then I was crying. And we were both crying, and it was just all so freakin sad!

We left the office quickly. Back to the car, and she held it together until we were in the backseat. And RS crawled into my arms and sobbed, and I just held her and cried too. And then a few minutes later, she was cool. Back in her carseat, and we went to get “frenchafries” and “coca”. 

The interesting thing in all this is when we got home. She wouldn’t let me put her down. We sat on the couch, and I rocked her like a baby. And she didn’t want me to stop. She even wrapped herself up like a baby. And she kept kissing my hands. We stayed that way through 2 Dora episodes. And then she wanted milk in her water bottle, and for me to feed her like a baby. And we did through another Dora.  All of this completely normal and a big bonding moment.  It was like she was accepting me as her mother, and wanting to do mom/baby things that we missed out on together. Other moms had told me this would start happening.  And it is right out of the textbook  from our adoption classes.  Older kids will regress some, and become baby like for a time being.

And then there’s something else I noticed when I looked back into her medical records and history. Most likely the last time RS had blood taken was the day after she was left at the orphanage by her birth mother.  So there was no mom to hold her when the needle hurt. Nobody was there afterward to comfort her.   I wonder if she thought I was leaving her after the doctor visit. And now I wonder if she understands that I won’t.

Last week RS went to the pediatric dentist. She did so good. She had multiple xrays and a cleaning, and she took it all like a pro. Actually she thought it was all a big game. Next time we visit we’ll see how well she does, right?  But man, I swear it’s like she’s been doing some of this stuff her whole life.

The bad news is RS needs 8 silver crowns to salvage her baby molars. She needs her front 2 teeth yanked, a cavity filled, and then an oral surgery to remove a benign tumor of enamel over her front tooth, so that the permanent one can come down. 

I love our dentist by the way. We don’t have dental insurance, and he gave us a huge discount of services, thank goodness. Even with the discount, it’s going to be a couple 1000 at least to fix her mouth. It also helps that our dentist is a supporter of an orphanage, and has a heart for kids like RS. 

He told me all her tooth decay was from malnutrition, which I suspected anyway. But hearing it out loud,  I still had an internal reaction that I hadn’t felt since we were home…anger. Anger at the situation, the circumstances, but not at anyone. My kid’s baby teeth are devastated because of malnutrition. It just really reminded me of her background and broke my heart. And all those other kids over there in the same situation. Kids all over world like this.  In a year, RS’s molars that she needs until she loses them at 9 or 10 (and the 8 teeth holding together the framework of her mouth)…in a year or less, they would have started to crumble from the inner decay.  All because of malnutrition and her environment. 

So terrible, but I’m so glad we have the ability to take care of it. And thank you Mr. Dentist! I’m humbled and thankful for your kind heart.

Now, I am going to work this week to prep RS for the crown procedure. She’ll be fine with the appointment, but it’s the after I’m worried about.  I’m concerned she will go in with front teeth, and come out with none,  plus a mouth of silver molars.  I think we are going to start drawing teeth and that sort of thing.  Her buddy from Hannah’s Hope who now lives in Knoxville, OE, is supposed to come play this weekend too. And she has silver molars and missing teeth.  She calls them her diamonds. I think this will help RS too.  We’ll figure it out.

On a good note, when her front teeth are gone, at least her biting during tantrums won’t hurt as much.  There are mulitple benefits to this procedure….

Some things that make me crazy and make me laugh…

-RS’s hair is a total lint magnet. I’m constantly plucking white fuzz out of it. And I have no idea where the fuzz comes from…She could be wearing a black shirt and blue pants, laying on a brown couch, with a red hat on her head….and she gets white fuzz in her hair.

-The Fancy Nancy dress-up skirt. Quite possibly the best and worst purchase of ‘09.

-45 minute baths comprising of refilling the bathtub at least twice.

-Brush the teeth. One day she loves it, the next day she has a nervous breakdown. But things are better now that we brush together, and she has her much more posh brush from the dentist

-Helping mom. God, this is my favorite. The kid puts up silverware and loads the dishwasher with mom’s help. Sweet.

-Tibs vs. Libs. In Amharic, I believe Tibs is the basic word for a meat dish. Libs is the basic word for clothes. I laugh everytime I think of RS’s face the first week when we were home, and I kept telling her to go get her Tibs on.

-1-2 meltdowns per day. If we don’t have them, something just doesn’t feel quite right, warm, and fuzzy.

-She goes to sleep with WSM-AM playing softly in the background every night…muhahahahaha. My sweet revenge at the end of the day…

-Her first full English sentence was…(one not regurgitated from English lessons in Ethiopia, like “How are you?  I’m fine, thank you, and you?)….”MOM! Dog hungry!”

-She helped me assemble a shelving unit on Thursday. Really.

Friday was great until about 12p. I was out at a work lunch, and RS stayed with my mom and dad.  IT was the first time I’d been away from here in over 2 weeks.  She did great until she tried to break out a new playdoh toy.  Grandma said no.  Actually it was typical kid behavior because she wanted it in the morning with me, and I wouldn’t let her have it.  So when I was gone, she tested grandma of course.  But her tantrum with my parents apparently was a bit longer and she tried to bite. Then she tried to leave the house.  Anyway, pretty predictable behavior.  After I got home she wanted to be with me, but then realized I sided with my parents, and she didn’t like that a bit. So she ignored me.

An hour later, we went to preschool for the Valentines Day party. This was RS’ first visit to preschool. My plan was to stay 20 minutes or so. I wanted to distract her from the previous tantrum. She was very shy and scared to go in at first. Then one step at a time in my arms, we moved into the room.  Eventually she met her 2 teachers, one lady African American and the other from Afghanistan.  There are at least 3 other Ethiopian kids in her school –2 in her class I think.  One of the other mothers was there for the party. She is Ethiopian and has 3 girls. She spoke Amharic to RS, and RS played all shy like she didn’t understand her.

Then RS became obsessed with the computer lab and played on every stinkin’ machine. But when we left (after 3 hours!) she wanted to play on the playground and had a major meltdown.  The kid was sprawled out in the parking lot and pouting something ridiculous. When I picked her up, she clawed and tried to bite, glared her teeth at me.  The kid cried half way home before passing out asleep. When we got home, she crawled into my lap, and kissed me, saying “I’m so sorry.”  Oh, but we’re not done yet. Why would we be? You have to complete the evening with one more meltdown at the dinner table. I think some of this is all about showing off for Grandma and Grandpa.

So what I’ve relearned is simple…back off. Seriously, how many times can I retell myself, KEEP HER WORLD SMALL!!!   Thursday we stayed at home, and no meltdowns. Today, same thing. Not that we can’t go anywhere, but just take it slow. The tantrums are still normal like they are everyday, but the fierce anger she showed was new. I’ve talked to the other moms, and their kids did the same thing in the first few months home. Let’s hope it just doesn’t escalate.  I really think it’s just overstimulation,  and when I take her away from things, she is confused and mad. And the language barrier doesn’t help.

Monday is bloodwork day, so I of course would appreciate any kind words of encouragement or prayers you want to throw our way…The children’s hospital alone overstimulates me, so combine that with needles, and Mom and RS are in for a fantastic Monday. Mmmmmm….can’t wait.

RS has talked about Sunday all week long, and so today was a big day for her.  Last week we took her to church for the first time, and she hung close by me, shy of the other kids.  But today, she barged right in and claimed her seat at the table, ready to paint. I was able to leave her down there for the full class and snuck up to service. After the homily/sermon, RS came back up and joined us in time for communion.

We sat there and wondered what she would do…should we take her up there, or will she freak out? I was imagining Mike and I kneeling for communion, and then her seeing that we got host and wine, but she wouldn’t…and then commence to crying and thrashing on the kneelers in front of everyone.  Or she could be just fine, and settle contently for a blessing from the pastor…

As the ushers came closer to releasing our row, RS watched everyone intently. I motioned to her to ask if she wanted to walk up with us, and her little eyebrows raised up in an Ethiopian “yes”.  Here goes.  We walked up in the line, and she confidently lead the way. I could feel all eyes on us. And then to the kneelers for communion, which she promptly knelt and giggled, looking around at the other folks. And then comes Father Thomas. Communion for Mom and Dad, blessing for RS. And she was cool with all of that. No problem. We rose, and she motioned for me to pick her up. And the 3 Seversons proceded back to their pew with a good handful of smiling eyes and soft grins peering up at us from the rows. 

After church, some friends joined us for Chinese. RS was perfect. She woofed down her fried rice and was totally digging on the sugar coated fried donuts and hot tea. Such a good kid in a restaurant (at least for now)–we were there for 1 1/2 hours, and she was totally cool sitting in her chair. Then she started showing off her brilliant art skills. She pulled out her notebook and pencil, and proceeded to draw items on the table. RS’s own little still life. When she came to draw the fork, she peered and picked it up, counting all the prongs so that she replicated it correctly. That’s right, my little Ethiopian Michelangelo.

That’s what we call our neighborhood. Fancy Hills. No fancy reason… but we think that at one time, perhaps back in the 70s, our neighborhood was considered quite fancy.

Anyway, we have officially declared Saturdays as “Fancy Saturdays”.  RS experienced her first day at the park. And she owned the place. Kid will try any slide, any monkey bars, any obstacle course…she rocks it out.  Mike told me later that two older African American girls asked him if he was RS’s daddy. He said yes, and that she is new here, from Ethiopia. They were amazed and asked if she could speak any English. Mike told them very little. Then they asked, Where did she get her clothes?”  I don’t know if they wondered if she should be wearing Africa garb and headwraps or what.  But Mike pointed over to me, and said, “Her mom bought them for her.” 

After she rocked out the playground, we went to Walgreens. It’s amazing to watch the kid experience something for the first time…like automatic doors.  It reminded me of the airport in ET, when she first rode an escalator.  Her eyes lit up at everything…I mean everything. We went straight to the hair aisle and she picked out 5 things, under my instruction. We are short on hair bands, and today only 6 of her 9 ponytails were complete with multi-color scrunchies. So I thought a visit to the store was necessary. She did so well. At the checkout counter, she got to pick out one more thing. She chose chapstick. Good choice.  Then I showed her how to set all the items on the counter for checkout. Boom, done. She’s a shopping pro.

Next we went to Marble Slab. She says ‘cake’ for anything that looks sweet. First she settled on a dipped sprinkled cone, but no icecream…until she saw the other little girls with icecream in their cones. And we ended up with 2 scoops of sweet cream. She ate the whole honkin thing, and had a blast!

We wrapped up Fancy Saturday at the house for a Feast Italiano, complete with linen napkins and a glass like mommy and daddy’s, only hers had OJ.  With a little Dean Martin playing in the background, it felt like home. And RS loves any clarinet or sax solo.

RS and Dad are watching Shrek now, chowing on popcorn.  Mike says she took down 3/4 of the bowl.  A perfect ending to Fancy Saturday.

Sorry for the delay of our first post since we’ve came home. We’ve been home for a week now. It has just been sooooo tiring, and a matter of survival. Mike and I both came home sick, along with RS.  But after some good antibiotics, Mike and I are feeling more like ourselves.  Each day gets better, and we are settling in.

I am terrible at navigating wordpress, and can’t figure out how to post photos. Honestly don’t care to mess with it, it will just piss me off. So eventually we are moving over to blogspot where I have been told it is much more user friendly.  If you want to see photos, find me on facebook and friend request me. Amy Severson. 

So much has happened over the last week. I’m not going to get into the ET part of our experience yet. Right now, I just need to write some things down before they escape me.  RS is an incredibly bright kid. Man, does she pick up on English quickly! And after 10 days, she and I have some mutual understandings–her little body language signals and Amharic jibber jabber and my English jibber jabber–we can communicate fairly well.  She is also super coordinated. RS jumps rope forward and backward, plays soccer and can kick the ball behind her, kick off the roll and the bounce. She can shoot baskets on a kiddie goal.  RS plays very well by herself, as well with other kids.  And she loves to show mom and dad her accomplishments! She colors in the lines, draws well, uses kiddie scissors like an old pro.  Seriously, it’s like we have any regular little 5 year old when it comes to her development.  An artist and athlete just like her mom!

Tuesday was her first doc visit with Dr. Heil. He was just smitten with her. From first look, she appears healthy as can be. On a scale from 1-10, she’s a 10 for internationally adopted kids. We go for blood work next week, then shots at the first of March.  After bloodwork and stool samples, we’ll know where we really stand. She also has her first dentist appt next week, and I know she needs some work.  Here’s a funny tidbit, although if you’re grossed out by ca-ca, then just fast forward over the next paragraph.

So Dr. Heil needed stool samples for parasites.  He gave us that little plastic bowl to fit on the stool and collect the ’sample’. All day I waited for RS to go. Everytime she ran to the bathroom, I hollered “Ca-ca?”. She shout back, “Ay! Shinti!” (“no, pee”) By the end of the day, she still hadn’t gone, and I thought I missed it. Then whattaya know, she calls “Mama! Ca-Ca!” and runs into kitchen, grabs the plastic bowl, runs into the bathroom. Goes. Then procedes to hand me a bowl with her sample inside! Are you kidding me? She done this thing before or what? Seriously!  We had to get one more sample and it went down the same way.  What’s even funnier is RS asked for the bowl again after we were done with the whole process, and I told her “finished.”  And she smiled, nodded, and ran off.

Ok, enough about BMs.  Now, food. Here’s what her preferences are so far.  Eggs, whole wheat bread (dabo), cashews, banana, oranges, pasta, carots, juice, soy milk (doesn’t care much for the real stuff), rice, potato, pita bread, soup, oatmeal, cream of wheat, french fries, mac/cheese, flintstone vitamins, bubblegum, and parm cheese (sprinkle cheese).  She is not a big meat fan right now. We’re going to try hamburger meat in mac/cheese or something soon. And she doesn’t do pizza or regular cheeses. She’s like a Whole Foods spokesperson in the making or something.

One more story for now. . Last night, we took her to Pizza Perfect. Tons of kids, big game room. She did so well. She was in her element. It was a lot of stimulation, but she was just one of the pack. We didn’t even have problems leaving. She and I have an agreement. When it is time to go or stop, we say ‘one more’, and she’s cool with that. Then we’re done.  Anyway, last night she and I were playing air hockey. There was about 1 minute of time left to play, and she hollered across the table “Mama! Shinti!” (pee).  And I tell her, Hold on…let’s finish the game and we’ll go!”

10 seconds left on the timer and she hollers again with a terrible scrunched up face, “Shinti! Shinti!” and starts to do the pee-pee dance–then turns and books it through the restaurant pushing people out of her way to get to the ladies room. When you gotta go, you gotta go! Lesson learned for mama!

Stay tuned friends and family….Andiamo!  We look forward to introducing you to our daughter.

This is my new deal. Well, it’s been going on for months now, but the last few weeks it has been more frequent. I just cry, randomly, for like 10-20 seconds…then I’m done and move on.  Common sense says it’s no wonder. I have so many thoughts and feelings, it’ s like a faucet that won’t turn off. Overwhelming feelings of fear, happiness, boldness, sadness, terror, elation, hesitancy, sureness, anxiousness, peace…so sometimes it just overtakes me, and I do one of those silent headbobbin’ sobs. My face gets wet and slobbery. Then as soon as it came, it’s over. 

 I read Madeline and the Cats of Rome today (the newest addition to RS’s library), and didn’t know the story line talked about cats that were given a home to different people around the world. Yeah, so I cried my 15 second cry.  I found a little Ethiopian-esque figure Mike had bought at a garage sale. It looked like a little angel or princess. So I cried, again. I’ll do my 15 second sob-shake folding her clothes, when I see a photo, when I look at these monkey socks a friend bought her, when I think about the BP album and that meeting…

Anyway, I  just find it interesting  because I’ve never cried like that before. So weird. 20 seconds later I’m  fine and ready to  roll.  It’s like my body can’t contain all the emotions, so some of it just has to pop out in little bobble-head sobs. Boom, then I’m done.

-Amy

How strange it feels to know there’s a little girl on the other side of the world, and she’s our kid.  She has our last name, we are her official legal guardians, we have photos of one another…but we’ve never met? Crazy. Daughter, mom, dad…about to meet soon and become a forever family.

Can we just get on a plane already?  I’m actually past the point of trying to plan and pack and prepare. At this stage, how can we really know what to prepare for?  So let’s just get on with it!